The Reader Affair
by Sora-M-Jigen
Summary: First, there was The Warfstache Affair. Then The Ned Affair. And now there's The Reader Affair, starring you as the guest star.
1. Starting Again

On Tumblr I asked what my followers would like to see me write. One person (an anonymous) asked to see a Warfstache and Reader fic that would have something to do with Cyndago's The Ned Affair. They wanted a fic like this in particular because apparently there's barely any Warfstache fanfics.

I will admit Warfstache was one of the more challenging characters I've had to write, but I hope I did the pink mustachioed man some justice. Enjoy. :) 

* * *

It had been a day after the rooftop shootout and Officer Ned was still rattled from the experience. While it pleased him that Warfstache was deceased, his mind shook madly from accidentally murdering a baby. The man had never committed murder, but always drew his gun to defend himself. He had ran into one or two occasions where he thought he had to put the weapon to use, but thankfully, those situations were relieved of any gunfire.

The gun from the rooftop showdown had been confiscated. It was unlike any other gun the officer had seen before. It was a miniature gold pistol that gleamed with sophistication and Wilfred Warfstache's fingerprints. But among those murderer's prints were the officer's as well. They would find that out soon enough and time slowly killed him as he tried to think of an explanation. He could easily say that he was in a struggle with Warfstache and shot the baby by accident. Or it was Warfstache who did it and he tried to get the gun away from him and it was too late. Or something, anything, just to clear his name and conscious.

Officer Lee's funeral was planned for tomorrow. His body rested in the town's morgue and a fatal wound sealed his fate. Lee's family and wife were told of the tragic incident and how bravely he died in battle while fighting off a homicidal madman. Ned couldn't remember the last time he had seen a woman, presumably Lee's wife, cry so loud and long. The image was seared into his mind of a gorgeous woman doubling over and nearly falling in the threshold of their home, sobbing horribly. Thankfully, Lee had no sons or daughters because that would have added to the heartbreak.

His boss had asked him if he wanted some time off and without thinking, Ned said no. Justice never slept and neither did he. Righteousness coursed through his veins as though he were Captain America. Yet he would allow justice to sleep in his bones on his easy days and off days, when no crime littered the streets with its dark mannerisms. Though now that he recalled the offer, he wished he would have said yes. The culmination of his accidental murder, Lee's wife, and his best friend's demise was wrecking him body and soul and for once, Fazzbear's pizza held no cure. He wasn't sure how much longer he could endure this brewing storm within his skull, but he had to be strong and continue with his routine. Wake up, get a coffee and doughnut from the bakery on 11th street, go to work, go home, eat a late dinner, watch tv and down a few Yuenglings before turning in. Repeat the process until he died or was fired. That seemed simple, right?

"Officer Ned, can I see you in my office?"

Here was the boom; they probably found the fingerprints by now and the head honcho wanted to see him. Ned would lose his job, his mind, and probably find himself in an endless, drunken stupor. He had no wife to snap him to or no kids to bring him joy. It was just him in an apartment in the suburbs of town, away from all the hustle and bustle. It did him well to be away from all that traffic and tension, but at the same time its floors creaked with loneliness. He would have to look for work elsewhere, probably as a security for the stores or a club bouncer, anything that would accept his qualifications and overlook his murder.

"We have a new recruit today. We need you to train them on the methods of the force. You know what to do. Is that clear?"

Relief washed over Officer Ned as he did his best not to collapse into the chair to his left. A new recruit training, thank God. This would definitely help him take his mind off his internal struggle. This person wouldn't be the new Lee. Lee would always be his right hand man until he died and he refused to believe otherwise. It was always good though to have a new face in the building and on the streets.

Yet he wondered how long it would take for them to see the fingerprints and if it would be better just to admit it before the discovery. From there his boss could proceed to do one of the following things: cover the whole situation up or discharge Ned from the service. Either way, he would have to do something to -

"NED!"

"Sir yes sir!"

"Weren't you paying attention? I was saying this new recruit is straight from the Police Academy and was one of the highest candidates."

From the corner of his eye, Officer Ned noticed you sitting in the chair to your right. Looking at you from behind his aviator shades, he tried to focus on you and no one else. Not Lee, not the baby, not Warfstache, nothing. You were as calm and cool as a lake in the summer time and carried yourself with a lion's pride that could not be diminished by a mere insult. You were a soldier in the war for justice and your eyes swirled with determination to do your job efficiently and professionally, no matter what the cost.

"Welcome aboard, Officer. Should you have any questions feel free to ask your trainer. He's a very reliable officer, one of the best on our force as a matter of fact. Is that clear?"

Nodding, the boss sent you on both your way. Ned led you out of the officer as you tried to figure out why his fingers fumbled and his lower lip was chewed up, as though he never stopped biting it. Through his glasses, his eyes darted left to right as though hiding a powerful secret. Perhaps he was nervous, but why you didn't understand. Sighing to yourself, you wanted the training to be done so you could properly begin your job. While the training was a part of your first paycheck, you still wanted to cut through the tutorial. After what seemed like minutes of silence, you cleared your throat with impatience and curiosity.

His eyes sharply looked at you and you met them with confusion in yours. What was wrong with this man or what he was thinking you did not know and you did not want to know. Everyone had their histories, but not everyone had to share them; it was never a requirement. You knew you would never share yours other than the fact that you busted your butt through the Police Academy, working your way to the top of the rank, and knowing that you would be immediately considered (if not hired on the dot) for a job with the police force. That was all anyone needed to know and that was how it was going to be.

"So you wanna be a cop," he spoke, seriousness trying to weave its way into shaky tones.

"Yeah. Why I'm here," you retorted, your voice piercing him and slicing through his demeanor. It seemed to startle him, but he brushed it off quite easily, like shaking off a cold slap of wind in the winter.

"You take no shit. That's good. Let's begin."

Driving around the city seemed to calm his nerves, but every time he happened to view a particular building near the airport, Ned grew anxious once more. It was strange, as though that peculiar place had a hold on him. For why, you didn't understand. It was just a building. Maybe the sound of airplanes taking off or brick buildings or buildings falling down scared him. The logic didn't add up, but it managed to slip away in between learning the area, shortcuts, how to combat enemies, and how to deal with opponents without using excessive force. It was everything you had learned in the academy, but you knew it would be required to learn the ways of these particular cops. Every police force was different in every town you would ever go to. Those were the words of your academy instructor and you would never forget them.

By the time you had finished your training, it was late in the day. The sunset cast long shadows from the alleys and shrunk buildings against the crimson sky. A little sliver of the shimmering orb sat on the horizon, watching the world rise over it. It wouldn't be long until night took hold of the world and held it hostage for a while. As you started your drive back to the police office, you noticed Ned growing hesitant and being more cautious. Perhaps he did not want to return back to the station so soon, again you didn't comprehend why. Or maybe it was because you happened to be near that particular building again. Maybe he had a panic attack there or someone died there or something ungodly terrible happened there. You couldn't read his mind, but concern immediately washed over you for your trainer.

"Officer," you spoke with a calm tone.

"You've been nervous all day. If it's about screwing this up, please, don't worry about it."

His demeanor didn't seem to change as you watched him. Roughly stopping at the light, you remembered how tea would calm your nerves after a long day of work at the academy. Maybe it would help him in this situation as you continued with your reassuring tones.

"Listen, there's a tea café down the place. Want to go? It'll help calm you down."

"Y-yeah. That sounds like a good idea."

Ned wasn't one for tea. Tea was for Brits and tea parties were for girls. If he had to choose between drinking a liquefied month old moldy doughnut and tea, he would go for the first option. Though if it would help him relax and calm his nerves, maybe just once, and only once would he take up the offer of tea. Grumbling to himself, he slowly rolled up to the tea café and focused only on the dainty cursive that clung to the store front. In that delicate font he found the shop name, 'Tea for Me'. It was quirky and cute, and the complete opposite of him.

Stopping the car and stepping out with you, his heart stopped at the sight from the corner of his eyes. There was that ominous building again. A menacing reminder as to what had happened only hours ago as his breath caught in his throat. Staring at the obelisk it flooded his mind with memories of Lee's fallen body and the baby's blood splattering all over the roof top. It shook him to the car and caused him to fall into the side of his car, forgetting how to control everything. Gripping the car for support, his body seemed lifeless, but something in his mind was shaking and rattling as though something was trying to escape.

"Ned?"

Your voice broke him from the paralysis of the mind. Standing at the door, you hadn't notice what he was quietly enduring as he slammed the roof of his car in frustration.

"You k?"

"Y-yeah."

Storming past you, he entered the tea café and was greeted with a soft 'hello' that you didn't manage to hear. Glaring at the building, it seemed completely harmless and yet, you did not know Ned's history with it. Asking him would probably stir up more pain than he had endured and you did not want that. Shrugging it off, you believed it would be best to keep an eye on Ned. Entering the shop behind him, Ned was observing the surroundings as though he had stepped into a different dimension of doilies and lace.

The tea shop was as fragile as a piece of glass as ivory cabinets held all sorts of tea. At the register stood a plump woman in her fifties who smiled like the crescent moon, all knowing and kind. She watched you both through her drooping eyes and allowed you to explore her humble shop. It wasn't much, but she seemed to be prideful of the establishment. Quaint tables were dolled up with pastel table cloths and little porcelain vases with fake hydrangeas. Soft lamp light cascaded down on the wooden area as Ned took the farthest seat from the window, grumbling still in frustration.

"Can we get some tea please? Chamomile preferably and a few jelly doughnuts." You knew jelly doughnuts would do something for the man. Doughnuts were a cop's weakness and even you had a thing for the oogy gooey sweetness of a jam filled pastry.

The elderly woman nodded and placed a silver tray on the counter as you sat across from Ned. He had his hair bowed as his fingers ran through his hair as though trying to shake something from his skull. That building still resonated within his head and he knew that it would never leave. It was always on his route too, he would have to ask his boss for a change of route. It would become too traumatizing after a while, more than what it was already. Ned bit his lower lip, his fingers trembling, and you knew you had to do something. The tea would take a few moments and it was best not to rush tea, lest the result would be poor tasting.

"So how long have you been on the force?" You dared not ask him about the thoughts in his head, not wanting to worsen anything. You figured that it would be best to take his mind off whatever he was thinking. Looking at you as though you asked an impossible question, he re-registered the words once more.

"Oh….for a while now."

You prodded him with questions about his career and life outside the force, which blossomed into a conversation. Sentence by sentence, the thoughts seemed to effect less and less of him. His hand stopped shaking terribly and he even managed to keep eye contact with you. Smiling, you were making headway at last and for once he didn't seem to be possessed by some anxiety demon. When the tea arrived, you didn't miss a word with him as you took your tea and mixed it to how you liked. Even Ned asked you how to properly prepare this 'shit' as he called it while immediately reaching for the doughnuts. You showed him instantly and once more, he picked up on his conversation.

"So then I said, listen motherfucker, I'm gonna –"

He was cut off by something in the distance. Something unnerving and for a moment it shook him up. You couldn't see the reflection of whatever it was in his glasses as you peered into the mirror behind him. From what you could tell, there was a shadowy figure leaving the building. At first, you assumed it was just a tenant, but then why would Ned be acting like this again? The person then stopped at the threshold and seemed to be staring at the police car. Their eyes tore through you and directed their sole attention to the man across from you who returned the stranger's gaze. Your heart caught in your throat as you were uncertain of what to do other than watch the passerby. It was too far to make out any details on him as the building's shadow took him under its wing and camouflaged him into the oncoming darkness. Within a moment, the darkness swallowed him as he vanished from your vision and, in a way, calmed Ned.

"Gonna take your ass downtown to the home of justice!"

His voice shook with a culmination of anxiety and excitement, but you laughed regardless. You were going to ask about the stranger, but you didn't want to bring up any more anxiety for Ned. Brushing it off, you sipped your tea as your conversation rejuvenated itself.

The shopkeeper once more bid a soft welcome, but you both figured it was just another customer and continued your conversations. It wasn't until the click of a gun's safety trigger made tension echo in the room and stiffen your spines with awareness. Before you could look over, your eyes were met with a man in a crimson and ivory blazer and a distinct, pink mustache. A barrel was pressed deeply into Ned's temple as the owner of the weapon smirked.

"Hello again."


	2. The Shootout

Ned could feel his body weaken with anxiety as the cold barrel sent shivers down his spine. He had known this feeling before, but that feeling coming from this man was enough to scare him. His heart throbbed in his head with painful memories and emotions. Bowing his head, the barrel followed his skull as you watched him bite his lower lip sharply. Your eyes darted between Warfstache and Ned, watching them both with uncertainty boiling in your brain. How they had known each other, did it all have something to do with the building, your mind wracked with questions you needed to answer or shake.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you that nobody, kills off, WILFRED WARFSTACHE?!"

"Y-you," the officer spoke, his shades hiding saucer size eyes. His jaw forgot how to close as it remained opened like an unclosed gas tank.

Quickly drawing your gun, you pointed the barrel at the pink mustachioed man. Watching you from the corner of his chocolate eyes, you were a new player to this game of hold em up. You were different, definitely not from the rooftop shooting. Newcomers were always welcome to the game of shoot em up. It meant more victims or victors, it was all a matter of who was the fastest and most intelligent with the weapon in their hands.

"Hey, what are –"

"We are taught to reason with the criminal before we should do anything drastic. Is that not what you learned in school, Officer Ned?"

"I-," Ned couldn't even think straight. His mind whirled between the unexpected actions of you and Warfstache. These very ideas and actions made him crumble from the inside out, like an incurable dam. Everything returned in surges of pain he didn't want to recall as he gnawed on his lower lip, attempting to find solace and regretfully, discovering none. He had to swallow every single thing that happened with this criminal and be brave not only for your sake, but to deal with Warfstache as well.

"Y-yes."

"Now we can either rationalize or take it outside. What do you think?"

Your voice dominated Warfstache. You weren't afraid or scarred from the job, not yet anyway. You were also rather good looking and Warfstache was a stickler for attractive people. Without a word, Warfstache furrowed his brow and slowly took a seat between you and Ned. Ned seemed to grow jitterier than what he was before as you watched him with rapt attention. His fingers shook once more, each tremble crawling up his arms like transparent spiders. Taking a breath, he watched Warfstache's eyes staring deeply into his soul with a coy glimmer. He knew he could trust the man about as far as he could throw him, which wasn't far.

"Weapons on the table," you spoke sternly, snapping Ned out of his horrified trance. Slowly placing your gun on the table next to your tea, your eyes never left Warfstache. Ned's hand trembled wildly, fingers shaking terribly as though he were left shivering in the unforgivable blizzards of Antarctica. It seemed like forever for him to reach his gun and by then, Warfstache had complied, placing a black, standard issue police gun on the table.

"That's….that's Lee's gun!"

"Yeah. It's weak, just like him."

Throwing his gun on the table, it took Ned so much strength to resist the urge to switch the safety off, and fire at him. You could see it in the man's shaded eyes and you came to the conclusion that whoever Lee was, he was murdered by Warfstache. Lee, from how imagined, was Ned's best friend. You couldn't blame the resentment and now Warfstache having his gun was like rubbing salt into the wound. Sympathy for Ned and Lee sparked in your brain and mingled with the logical lessons you remembered. You had to be calm and cold; no emotion could slide into place and ruin your exterior. Taking a deep breath, the empathy slipped back into the void of your mind as the tension settled in your lungs. This wasn't going to be easy, but you had to do your best.

"Good. Now let's rationalize. Who would like to beg-" your crisp, emotionless voice was interrupted by Warfstache's accusing tones.

"Now listen here,I saw what you did on that rooftop."

"What he did on the rooftop?"

"You killed a baby!"

"Ye-yeah,"Ned swallowed hard and from his unsettling fear, courage he had obtained on the first day of his job arose.

"Baby you originally allegedly killed! Along with the rest of the family!"

"Gentlemen," you spoke calmly with a sternness that silenced them both.

"Clearly, we're dealing with a homicide case and-"

"I'm willing to cover it all up for you, you pickled platypus pussy," Warfstache interrupted, his cool voice tinted with a building anger that was neatly kept in line.

"If," Warfstache continued.

"You get my gun back."

A bribe was something that was frowned upon in the Police Academy, yet there had been stories of cops taking bribes for so many years. You were trained to never take bribes, regardless of the situation. As for Ned, you weren't sure what he would do; especially since this Warfstache seemed to be the cause of his anxiety. If he returned Warfstache's gun to him, would he rid himself of the anxiety? It would be an easy cure, but Ned did not settle for bribes. He was a man of the law or at least, he used to be before the rooftop showdown. Yet justice still resonated within him like Lady Liberty's burning torch. This righteousness would never be extinguished and he knew that. Righteousness had been injected to him since his first day on the force and it was something he could never be cured of. Locking eyes with Warfstache, the flames of justice burned brightly behind his shaded aviators.

He wasn't scared anymore.

"Why, so you can kill anyone else, you ass fucker?"

"You slick sick sack of shit, I just want my gun back!"

"Oh yeah? Well over my dead body you're getting your gun back, you dickless motherfucker."

"Could we maybe stray away from the insults and resort to rational conversa-"

"WILFRED WARFSTACHE TAKES NO SHIT FROM NO ONE!"

Grabbing Lee's gun, you and Ned followed suit. Throwing down the table and hiding behind it, Warfstache proceeded to shoot up the place like an old school Western. Hurriedly, you and Ned removed the safety triggers from your gun and proceeded to take fire. The shopkeeper was gone and hopefully out of harm's way as bullets rained down, piercing the wooden table. Footsteps raced across the shop as a loud crash was followed by a harsh thud. Swiftly looking over, Warfstache had kicked down a table and was using it as shelter as he continued to fire at you. Amazingly each bullet seemed to miss and at best, one merely grazed your arm. Wincing at the sudden rush of pain coursing through your body you couldn't let Warfstache see he had succeeded in harming you. Pressing your back to the table alongside Ned, you grit your teeth and shook the pain off like an itch. Bullets tore through wood tables and wrecked cabinets, sounds of shattering glass slapped your ears as you bit your lower lip.

From the corner of your eye, you watched Ned as your mind raced; what were you to believe anymore. Ned seemed like a good man to the point where he didn't even accept a bribe and yet, he had killed a baby which explained his constant anxiety. On top of that, the death of his best friend didn't help the situation either. He was thrust with a double dose of pain which made Warfstache grin and wildly fire. But then again, there was Warfstache who had murdered a family, the baby's family most likely. Why though, you weren't certain. The husband could have owed him a debt and he didn't pay up or the wife was assaulting him. You didn't know the full story as another bullet grazed your flesh, snapping you back to reality.

It was as though you were flung into one of those over the top stereotyped action movies and yet, you enjoyed it. The speed of bullets flying past your head, knowing that this gunfight could make you or break you, the mere amount of strength it took to be brave in this moment, and how you grinned from the thrill. It was Christmas Day for you and you quickly reloaded your gun. Click. Ready to fight. Once more you swung your gun to the side of the table, only to be met with the shopkeeper. That plump, kind woman who had served you with the sweetest disposition now held a rifle in her hand.

Eyes widening, you watched the little old lady cock it. Throwing your body away from the gunfire, you pressed your back against the table. Three warning shots struck the floor, each one louder than the last and all three of them ringing in your ears. Ned quickly looked around the table to see the sight, his eyes widening like yours in pure shock at the mere idea that a quaint and quiet woman could have a rifle, and use it properly. Even Warfstache was stunned by the scene between the flipped tables as his jaw dropped, his hand on the gun.

"Listen up!" The little old woman's voice was loud and completely uncharacteristic of her, which drew you back even further in shock.

"You have ruined my shop! You will pay for it! Every single last detail! Is that understood!?"

Knowing not to mess with the wrath of an elderly woman, you all nodded your heads. Your jaws still slung open in pure amazement at this shopkeeper who dominated the room like the main attraction at a circus.

"As for you two," she directed her attention to you and Ned as you contemplated what was more terrifying in that moment: facing off a trigger happy lunatic or a woman scorned.

Ned slowly rose, putting his gun on the floor to show he meant no harm and placed his hands in the air so that the woman could see them. With the barrel pointed at his chest, she neared him and angrily spoke about how the law was to serve and protect, not serve and destroy, and how those plates were her mother's from the 20s and how they were irreplaceable and how cops weren't like how they used to be and how these whippersnappers didn't know what the Hell they were doing anymore with the force and -

A lone gunshot silenced her yammering as the rifle slid from her grip and hit the floor with a soft thud. A passing car was blasting a choir hymn, from what you could hear it was 'Ave Maria'. From there, time seemed to slow as you watched gravity catch the woman in its transparent hands. With every second of her falling, your jaw dropped lower and lower. You were prepared for your first day, but you didn't expect to see a death no sooner you left the station. Your mind shattered and rattled like someone was shaking broken glass in a concrete jar, your heart pounding in your head. The sudden notion to vomit emerged in your mind, but was quickly swallowed by the sound of the woman hitting the floor with a gentle crash. Looking between the new corpse at your feet and Warfstache, your head attempted to comprehend everything that had just happened in that mere moment. Yet you found no success, for it still shook with loose nerves.

Warfstache locked eyes with Ned who stared at him with rage. Another life claimed by a madman and while it silenced the woman, it was still a crime that enraged the cop. As before, Warfstache stared back as though he did nothing wrong and spoke in a casual tone.

"…what? It was an accident!"

Fleeing the shop, you took after Warfstache with Ned at your heels. As you ran into the street, you felt a harsh gust of wind kick dust up from the road. Covering your eyes with your arm, you managed to squint through the sudden dust. Through slit eyes you noticed Warfstache struggling with the wind to press forward and escape the crime scene. This notion was immediately dismissed as Ned ran forward, clicking his gun and pointing it at Warfstache. The wind carried the deafening sound as Warfstache threw his hands up and slowly turned, only to point his gun at Ned. The two men stood in the street like statues that would never budge or erode for as long as eternity held them in place. Locked eyes never blinked, even as the sunset's blinding light tore through the oncoming shadows of night. Even through the still harshly blowing gust, their eyes never left each other, each man planning a strategy in their head. Slowly, you slid in between the men, uncertain of who to believe: your trainer, a cop with blood on his hand and anxiety eating away at his sanity or Warfstache, a stranger with an even stranger past and blood on his fingers.

Above your head, you noticed a crimson and ivory beach towel break free from a nearby laundry line. As it danced in the rough wind and slowly skirted down to the sidewalk, you noticed the unforgiving gust toss it onto Warfstache's frame. Wrapping itself around his body, it looked as though he had gained a poncho from some old Western store or antique shop. A tenant left a building next to the now shot up tea café. No sooner he saw the guns, he ran back into the building with the wind stealing his ebony cowboy hat. The wind decided to play ring toss with Warfstache's head as it threw the hat towards him. With the sheer chance of fortune, it managed to land on top of his black hair.

As the three of you stood, guns pointed out, the wind slowly started to die down and ease itself into a calm breeze. It only passed by for a few moments before taking its leave to some other part of town. Eye darted between Warfstache, yourself, and Ned as you swallowed hard. Who would you shoot at if the moment presented itself? It would eventually, even you knew that. So many questions continued to dog pile in your head as you attempted to determine the good and the bad. You thought you had everything figure out before, but now your brain pressed you for answers and logic.

Of all the times for your phone to start ringing, the song 'Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy' echoed through the silent streets. Neither Warfstache nor Officer Ned looked at you. Instead, Warfstache grinned wildly as though he had won a game of strip poker and was reeling in the cash. Ned licked his lips and gritted his teeth, pointing his gun at Warfstache. Not once did you, Ned, or Warfstache move an inch as barrels were met with locked eyes, pupils darting from opponent to opponent. As the ringtone reached the song's chorus, your eyes widened from the sudden crash of realization in your mind. It was almost too comical to notice at first as you felt the wind once more push harshly at your chest and kick up any dust in the street. Squinting through the dust, you glanced between your trainer and Warfstache.

"This is a Mexican shoot out," you spoke without warning and gripped your gun.

As though your words triggered the very bullet, a gun rang out and yet you knew it wasn't yours. From the corner of your eye, you saw Ned jerk slightly backward. Your heart stopped. The street was as quiet as the now settling night as darkness lied down on the roads and became a blanket for the falling body of Ned. With your heart caught in your throat, you found yourself unable to breathe. The mere shock weighing you down was like someone setting anvils on your shoulders and you could do nothing, but drop alongside your fallen trainer. Knees hitting the street hadn't hurt so much since you were a child and you scraped them on the road a few times while playing with the other children. But now it was a pain that you knew couldn't be helped with a band aid. Your chest was heavy as your mind spiraled into a loss of sanity that you didn't expect to come so soon from this job.

Warfstache had won and in celebration, he fired a few rounds of his gun. Each one more piercing than the last as you felt your heart sink into your toes. Breathing slowly returned to you and you gradually came to your senses, no longer trapped in the terrified trance of your trainer's death. Yet the sight of him lying on the road was still enough to make you become enshrouded in horror and reconsider this career. You knew you could be tough. You knew you could be bold and brash. But now that someone you cared and worried about was dead at your side, you honestly wondered if you could pursue it any further.

"Hey baaaaaaaaaby," Warfstache spoke, his smooth voice no longer filled with anger.

He was talking to you. Blinking, you slowly turned your head and faced a completely different Warfstache. He grinned like a Playboy and it seared your mind with confusion. One moment it was a madman's smile, but now it was a suave curve beneath his pink mustache. His eyes were relaxed, pupils dilated – possibly one thing on his mind and you knew what exactly that thing was – and overall, calm as though revealing a new, kinder side of him. You were taught how maniacs grinned during their lunacy phase and tranquil phase, you recalled how calm murderer's eyes were when they weren't on the prowl, and to think the man before you had those symptoms made you shiver. It was strange and unnerving, but at the same time dangerous and exhilarating.

"Wanna get outta here?"

Winking at you, you knew what that meant as your cheeks grew hot. Then again, it could mean coffee or dinner and a movie; you didn't know the tendencies of this man. You barely even knew this man. The only thing you managed to understand about him was that he killed your trainer and massacred a family. Yet your trainer had supposedly, accidentally killed a baby. Inside your mind, the shock meddled with your logic and altered every single thought and emotion you had up until this moment.

'How could anyone accidentally shoot a baby,' you thought to yourself.

The offer still stood on the table and without giving it a second thought, you nodded. You needed to escape. You somehow needed to forget this night, this career path, this everything. Possibly start over anew with recovered sanity and live a better life. You would go back to school. You would do anything to eliminate this day from every occurring. Warfstache flashed that charming grin once more as from the corner of your eye, you happened to notice an abandoned horse and carriage. The driver was nowhere to be found and at best, it could have been assumed that he was either using a nearby restroom in a shop, or the horse was on break. Either way, Warfstache took advantage of this situation and untying the horse from its post and carriage, he climbed onto his back. Galloping over to you, he held out his hand. Swiftly taking it, Warfstache pulled you up onto the white horse. Wrapping your arms around his hips, you held onto him for dear life, not knowing what he would do next. Pressing the cowboy hat onto head, he grinned and gripped the reins.

With the towel flapping against the breeze, Warfstache laughed with you as you both rode off into the darkness. For the night was young and there was plenty of fun to be had. What though, you were uncertain of, but you had handcuffs in case anyone needed to be arrested.


End file.
